


Once Upon a Knight

by merlins_sister



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Humor, Unicorn!fic, crack!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-24
Updated: 2011-09-24
Packaged: 2017-10-24 00:31:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/256848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merlins_sister/pseuds/merlins_sister
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John has a secret fear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Once Upon a Knight

John stomped into Heightmeyer’s office, heading towards the comfier of the many seats she had in there. She said nothing as he stalked passed her desk, but he could, even in his agitated state, sense her surprise. He didn’t normally appear here unbidden except to make sure she was okay after whatever crisis had hit them recently.

Reaching the chair he flopped down and crossed his arms. There might, he was willing to admit, a slight chance of pouting as well.

Heightmeyer slid smoothly into the chair in front of him, a picture of professionalism.

“Colonel, what can I do for you?”

“I think they’ve done it,” he said shortly.

“Done what?” she asked, her legs crossing as she settled in for what she was obviously perceiving as a long session.

“Sent me over the edge, made me crack, made me lose what few marbles I had left in this place,” John growled.

“And what have they done to achieve this?” Her voice was concerned, but he thought there was possibly a slight hint of amusement as well.

Well, he couldn’t help the pouting.

“They have made a unicorn.”

He would give Heightmeyer credit. There wasn’t a hint of reaction.

“A unicorn?” she queried, obviously nixing the next question that she wanted to ask. Something along the lines of ‘Are you sure?’

He decided to answer it anyway. “Yes, I am sure it’s a unicorn and not a horse with an ice cream cone stuck on its forehead.”

This time there was definitely a biting of the lip. He pulled himself slightly more upright and attempted to make a grab for some dignity.

“I know, I know... out here why would a unicorn be any different to anything else we discover or hit the wrong button and create? But a unicorn??”

Okay, there was definitely some shaking in the shoulders now.

He narrowed his eyes. “Did I mention it was pink and sparkly?”

“Pink?” He heard the effort in the voice that Heightmeyer was making to hold on to her professional demeanour.

“Yes, and sparkly,” John replied watching as Heightmeyer wrapped her hand over her mouth in a less than nonchalant manner.

It did no good. Her shoulders started shaking and she let out two slightly less than feminine snorts.

“Oh, you think it’s funny too?” John demanded.

Heightmeyer waved him off for a moment before retaining some control.

“Well, it’s a pink, sparkly unicorn,” she smiled. “Considering what else they have managed to unleash I think it is funny.” She looked at him glowering at her. “But obviously not for you.” She tipped her head slightly to one side, curious. “Why not?”

“It’s a pink, sparkly unicorn!” John exclaimed, as if that explained everything.

When Heightmeyer merely raised an eyebrow in response he continued, “And you have no idea what they want me to do to capture it!”

Both eyebrows went up.

Before John could get any further Rodney charged into the room, a large backpack over his shoulder.

“There you are!” Rodney exclaimed. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

“I am NOT wearing panty hose!” John exclaimed, standing up to greet him.

“Nobody said anything about wearing panty hose,” Rodney replied with a slight roll of his eyes.

John glared at him.

“Okay, okay, the knight in the picture we used for illustration was wearing them but that doesn’t mean you have to.”

Heightmeyer stood up to join the conversation. “You want the Colonel to wear panty hose?”

“I am NOT wearing panty hose!” John repeated.

Heightmeyer made some sort of soothing hand motion at him which he knew was her signal for ‘let me handle it’. John folded his arms and started to pace.

“He doesn’t have to wear panty hose,” Rodney said, “But we do need him to dress up as a knight.”

“Don’t knights usually come in armour?” Heightmeyer asked in what Sheppard considered a far too reasonable tone.

Rodney shifted. “Yes... well... yes, normally. Just not in the book the unicorn is from.”

“The unicorn is from a book?” Heightmeyer asked, looking between the two men.

“Yes... well... we didn’t think anything would happen,” Rodney provided by way of explanation.

“Hah!” John exclaimed.

Heightmeyer put her hands up to silence both of them. “Rodney, tell me what happened.”

“We thought we had found a new scanner technology down in one of the labs,” Rodney replied, finally putting down his bag. “So we used a children’s book from the supplies brought here for the Athosians and scanned one of the pages in. Next thing we know there is a unicorn cantering off down the corridor.”

She looked at the pacing John and the shifting Rodney again. “And so how did you come to the conclusion that you needed the Colonel to dress up as a knight to capture it?”

“Well, when it kept running away from us, we thought perhaps it needed to see something from its world to encourage it to come closer,” Rodney explained.

Heightmeyer glanced at John. “And why does the Colonel need to be the one to do this?” she asked, finally making a valid point in John’s opinion.

Rodney looked slightly bemused. “But he always does this stuff... save the day, do the unusual. It’s what he does.”

John sighed at the expectation in Rodney’s tone and tried to ignore the understanding glance Heightmeyer had thrown at him.

“I’m sure someone else could take this one,” she suggested.

“But I’ve made him a hat,” Rodney said, his tone confused. “Well, technically Kusanagi made it, but, you know, I was there.”

He started to rummage in the backpack and before John had had a chance to listen to his instinct to run, Rodney had plonked a black velvet beret on his head, the orange feather flopping across his face.

John blew at the feather ineffectually, giving up after a few moments to resume glaring. Rodney was oblivious.

“There!” Rodney exclaimed. “Just what any unicorn is looking for in its friendly knight.”

John looked to Heightmeyer for support but she had returned to wrapping her hand across her mouth. Fortunately his ability to glare had more impact on her.  
She gently placed a hand on Rodney’s arm to grab his attention back to her from the hat.

“Rodney...” she started before pausing at the look on his face. It was the look of ‘I’ve just worked out how to save the universe’ or a variation on that. He returned to the bag and John tried to not feel smug about the look of worry that flashed across the psychologist’s face.

“I was going to find Cadman for this bit,” Rodney explained leaning over the bag. “But you have golden locks too so...” He spun around and, before Heightmeyer had a chance to react, plonked a large hat of the damsel type on her head, golden fabric hanging down in an arc at the back. It was John’s turn to snort slightly as the hat slid to almost across Heightmeyer’s eyes.

“Ahh,” Rodney commented, “I thought the hair might have bulked the hat out a bit. Never mind.” He returned to the bag. “You’ll need these as well,” he said, producing carrots and handing them to the slightly stunned Heightmeyer.

Rodney looked between the two of them. “Perfect! What unicorn in its right mind could resist either of you?” Without waiting for an answer Rodney shouldered the backpack and started for the door. “Zelenka and I will work out where it is and let you know.” He paused as he reached it, turning back, nervously fiddling with the bag. “Sheppard, the xenobiologists have been itching to take a look at it,” he said. “You won’t let them dissect it or anything, will you?” He switched from nervous to acting nonchalant. “Not that it would worry me. But you know, Zelenka, he would get really upset.”

John couldn’t help the smile that crept across his face. “Don’t worry, Rodney. No dissection allowed.” He glanced slightly at Heightmeyer. “It’s a unicorn after all.”

Rodney beamed before making a grab for the bag again. “Sure I can’t persuade you about the doublet and hose?”

“NO!” John exclaimed regretting the smile.

Rodney shrugged. “I’ll radio you when we’ve found it,” he called behind him as he headed out of the office.

John turned to face Heightmeyer, blowing again at the orange feather in an attempt to get it out of his face. She was looking down at the carrots in her hand and seemed to have an expression of ‘why did I come to this madhouse again?’ John wished he could say he didn’t understand that feeling.

John watched as the psychologist attempted to lift the hat up slightly before giving up when it slid down again.

“So, Colonel, what’s the plan?” she asked.

John sighed. “Rodney finds said unicorn and...” John knew this time the slight shudder at the thought was unconcealable, “We herd it somewhere.”

Her smile was sympathetic as she said breezily, “Well, I am sure you will be rewarded for such actions. You may even get a kiss from a damsel if you are very nice.”

John eyed Heightmeyer carefully, not sure if the damsel in question was her, and not wanting to go too far in thinking it might. He adopted what he perceived as the safer response. “I would be so lucky.”

Heightmeyer’s eyebrow went up again and John knew he had miscalculated. Mentally kicking himself he braced for Heightmeyer’s next move.

“Been a while has it, Colonel?” she asked with a bright smile. “Or are we thinking of someone in particular?”

John narrowed his eyes. “No comment.”

The eyebrow went higher. “Uh, huh.”

John grabbed a carrot out of her hands and made a move to get passed her. “Let’s get this over with.”

Heightmeyer moved with a speed which, under other circumstances he would have admired, to block his way.

“Uh, uh. No leaving. I think we have just made a breakthrough.”

John stared at her in disbelief. He gestured with the carrot. “We have a unicorn to capture.”

Heightmeyer waived his comment away. “Not as important as your mental health.” She eyed him with what seemed to John unprofessional amusement. “Though I will give you a choice. You can either tell me which damsel you wanted a kiss from or you can tell me why a pink, sparkly unicorn should scare you so much.”

John tried glaring again, but this time she was having none of it. Crossing her arms she waited the glare out.

“Okay. Fine,” John finally spat out. “It was my cousin Johanna’s eighth birthday.” He took a deep breath at the memory. “I was the only boy.” He paused. “And I am not saying any more than that.”

To his surprise Heightmeyer nodded sympathetically, patting him gently on the arm. Turning towards the door she asked, “Shall we go find this unicorn then?”

John started after her surprised to not feel the shudder of apprehension he had been feeling since hearing about the unicorn’s arrival. His stopping brought Heightmeyer to a halt too, a smug look on her face. “101 Psychology, Colonel. Admitting that there is a problem makes it seem less like one.” She crunched down on one of the carrots. “Shall we go for two out of two and find out which damsel you want a kiss from?”

John wrinkled his nose. “Let’s do one confession at a time, Doc.”

Heightmeyer shrugged, her smile broad. “Well, I suppose there is plenty of time to find that one out.” She gestured with the munched on carrot. “Lead on, good knight.”

“After you, my fair lady,” John replied, bowing slightly, finally a proper smile on his face as Heightmeyer curtsied in response.

It disappeared as she picked up the conversation in the corridor.

“Can’t I just have a go at guessing?”

“No.”

“Come on. Just three guesses. I bet I could get it in three guesses.”

“No!”

It was strange but John was finally keen to find the unicorn.


End file.
